It used to be that every decade or so Kodak would come out with a new film format calculated to sell lots of cameras and film to snapshooters spooked by the apparent complexity of roll-film and 35mm cameras. They started with the Kodapak (126) cartridge and Instamatic cameras in 1963, went on to the Pocket Instamatic (110) cartridge in 1972, and then unleashed the abominable Disc Camera in 1982. For what turned out to be the final go-around, Kodak realized that they could no longer dictate formats by themselves. So in 1996 they joined with leading Japanese camera makers to develop the “Advanced Photo System,” or APS.
At first glance APS seemed appealing. It was based on a little cartridge that holds 24mm-wide film. You just dropped it into the camera, which let you select any of three different sizes of print for each picture. After processing, the negatives were safely sealed in the little cartridge, so you didn’t have to worry about handling negatives.
But a closer look revealed few real advantages over 35mm. The final generation of point-and-shoot 35mm cameras also had simple loading. Before they got out of the 35mm camera market, Kodak sold a line of inexpensive EasyLoad 35mm cameras that, as the name implies, were as easy to load as APS. APS cameras can be very small and light, but not much more so than the smallest 35mm point-and-shoots. APS film and processing also cost more than 35mm.
Most of the touted advantages of APS really weren’t advantages at all. While modern films allow decent small prints from 24mm negatives, you were still sacrificing image quality. It might not have mattered much if you only put the 10x15cm prints in your photo album; but it could become significant if you ever wanted to enlarge some of your favorite pictures.
A more serious problem related to the “advantage” of having negatives in the cartridge after processing. While this might have prevented possible damage from handling, it also prevented you from easily looking at the negatives. Since the quality of photofinishing in the U.S. is far too often inexcusably atrocious, it’s essential to be able to examine negatives so you can tell whether the fault is with the camera or with the lab. It’s much easier to demand a new print when you can show the clerk that the dark, gray “underexposed” picture was actually a nice dense negative. There was no easy way to do that with APS. Processors did provide an “index print” with thumbnail images of each frame as a way to select pictures for re-printing, but many labs also offered it for 35mm.
Aside from the technical concerns, I have other misgivings about snapshooter formats du jour. Back in 1972, I thought the 110 Pocket Instamatic was a good idea. The top-of-the-line Pocket Instamatic 60 was a clever little camera with a rangefinder and a sharp f/2.7 lens. While the 16mm Kodacolor II negative film wasn’t so great— grain was visible even on the standard small prints— Kodachrome-X (and later, Kodachrome 64) showed that the format was capable of very good image quality. The slides, in special 30x30mm plastic mounts intended for cute, tiny Pocket Carousel slide trays, had amazing sharpness and impact when projected on a large screen in a special Pocket Carousel projector. (Read more about the history of the Pocket Instamatic.) The pictures in my Europe Through the Front Door galleries were all made from 1970s-era 110 Kodachrome slides. Two very nice pictures of the Pont du Gard (#1 and #2) in France, as well as a picture of the Hana Highway on Maui, were also made from 110 slides.
Kodak discontinued the Pocket Carousel projectors in 1980, and discontinued all 110 slide film in 1982. A few years later the unique “Size K” battery for the original Pocket Instamatic cameras disappeared. I have a large collection of 110 slides in obsolete trays, which can only be projected in one obsolete projector for which neither replacement bulbs nor repairs are readily available. My Pocket Instamatic 60 camera became completely useless more than two decades ago, when its battery died and could not be replaced. But there really is no reason to use it. A 35mm point-and-shoot was more versatile, yielded far better image quality, and wasn’t much larger or heavier. And a modern “shirt pocket” compact digital camera is even smaller and lighter than a Pocket Instamatic, which was too long to fit in a shirt pocket.
Kodak stopped making Disc film in 1998, and discontinued 126 film in 1999. Disc film is completely extinct, and not missed by anyone. 126 became extinct in April 2007 (after 44 years) when Ferrania discontinued Solaris FG200, the last available 126 film. 110 became extinct sometime in 2009 when Kodak quietly discontinued MAX Versatility 400, the last available mass-market 110 film (but see below).
APS probably passed into the “legacy technology” category in 2002. Each December, Popular Photography magazine includes an annual “Top Cameras” guide that’s a pretty good cross-section of the current market. The last time any APS camera appeared there was in 2001. APS SLRs are no longer made, and the small digital camera has completely replaced the APS (and 35mm) point-and-shoot.
Left: Kodak Pocket Instamatic 60 (1972), the top-of-the-line Pocket Instamatic. Right: Canon Powershot S100 (2011), an “advanced” shirt-pocket digital camera.
The Pocket Instamatic measures 143 x 54 x 27mm and weighs 269 grams, including film and proprietary alkaline or mercury “K” battery (no longer available). Its list price was $128 in 1972, equivalent to $688 in 2011. It’s too long to fit in a shirt pocket. It can fit in a trouser pocket, or in a backpack or purse, but the lack of a lens cover means it requires a case in practice. (The lens is recessed behind a rectangular glass window at the center of the front of the camera.) I carried my camera in a fake-leather case clipped on my belt. Strangely, the less-expensive Pocket Instamatics had sliding lens covers and were somewhat shorter, which made them more practical to carry in a pocket.
The S100 measures 99 x 60 x 27mm and weighs 198 grams, including a proprietary rechargeable lithium-ion battery and SD memory card. Its list price was $430 in 2011. The lens retracts behind a cover when not in use (as shown here). The camera easily fits in a shirt pocket, although I more often slip it into a waist pack when it’s not in my hand— and it’s smaller than my hand. (The S100 is now a “legacy” camera. Canon replaced it first with the S110 in 2012, and finally the S120 in 2013. Canon very quietly discontinued the S120— and apparently abandoned the high-end “shirt-pocket” camera— in 2015.)
The Pocket Instamatic has a 26mm f/2.7 lens, equivalent to a 50mm “normal” lens on a 35mm camera. The fully automatic exposure system includes an averaging meter— reading through the bright round window to the left of the lens— fixed at ISO 80, and allows no manual control. A coincidence rangefinder (the little circular window to the left of the exposure meter) aids manual focusing, and a Magicube (no longer available) fits in a socket on top of the camera when flash is needed. The Pocket Instamatic 60’s features (including fully automatic exposure) are similar to what you’d find on the small Japanese 35mm point-and-shoot cameras then available.
The S100 has a 24 - 120mm equivalent, f/2 - f/5.9 zoom lens; automatic or manual focusing; an extensive set of fully automatic and manual exposure modes, all with exposure compensation; exposure metering through the lens in evaluative, center-weighted averaging, and spot modes; and an underpowered built-in flash.
Like the Pocket Instamatic, the S100 has a “base” ISO of 80, though at the comparable 50mm equivalent focal length its lens is a full stop slower at f/4. But the S100’s image stabilization allows the use of shutter speeds two or more stops slower than without stabilization. And the camera’s working sensitivity can be adjusted in 1/3-stop increments from 80 to 6400 (in practice, anything above 400 requires aggressive noise reduction and loses fine details). The S100 can also shoot video, incorporating the function of the Super-8 movie camera a tourist might have also schlepped in 1972.
Both cameras have standard tripod sockets, not visible in the picture. The Pocket Instamatic has a screw-in socket for a cable release in front of the shutter release button (that button is shown here in its “locked” position, to prevent accidental actuation in a pocket). Kodak sold a “Compact Camera Stand,” a plastic base the size of a large bar of soap with a little arm on a ball joint that screwed into the tripod socket for “existing light” pictures. The S100 has no provision for remote shutter release, although it does have a self-timer that can provide a similar function.
Another “feature” on the Pocket Instamatic but not on the S100 is the Plimsoll mark behind and to the left of the shutter release. The symbol— a circle with a horizontal line through its center— indicates the focal plane, the exact position of the film within the camera. It’s a standard feature on 35mm and larger cameras, ostensibly as an aid to precision manual focusing. I doubt anyone actually used the Pocket Instamatic 60’s Plimsoll, but it was a clever way for Kodak’s marketeers to suggest that the camera is a precision instrument. (My “entry-level” Canon Rebel XT/350D and SL1/100D digital SLRs include a Plimsoll, probably for the same reason. The SL1’s Plimsoll is easily visible in white on the black body. The 350D’s is embossed into black plastic and almost invisible, which is why I never noticed it in nine years of using that camera.)
The Pocket Instamatic’s 110 film format has a 17 x 13mm frame. The Kodacolor II negative film was too grainy for prints larger than 5 x 7 inches, but sharp Kodachrome slides could easily produce 8 x 10 prints. A particularly sharp slide could make an acceptable 11 x 14 enlargement, which I consider the practical maximum. The S100 has a “1/1.7” CMOS sensor that measures 7.6 x 5.7mm, providing a 4000 x 3000 (12.1 megapixel) image. Although the sensor has less than 20% of the 110 film frame’s area, its image quality is in an entirely different league. I have no difficulty making tack-sharp 11 x 14 prints from the S100 at ISO 80 or 100. Peeping at the pixels suggests that satisfactory 16 x 20 prints should be possible, though I haven’t tried making them.
I have an article about Scanning 110-Format Film (and Kodachrome), with tips and information based on my experience scanning numerous Kodachrome slides for the Europe Through the Front Door pages. I also discuss the available options for scanning 110 negatives.
The two remaining big-name film manufacturers have abandoned the 110 format. After Fuji and Ferrania discontinued their 110 films, Kodak’s MAX Versatility 400 became the “last film standing.” Kodak seems to have discontinued it sometime in 2009, without any announcement or publicity. The only statement I’ve seen from Kodak is buried in the “Consumer Products Support” section of their Web site. An “answer” to the (in)frequently asked question Where can I buy 110 film? published in July 2011 officially (and belatedly) acknowledges that the film was discontinued.
For some years Frugal Photographer offered a dwindling stock of fresh or cold-stored 110 Fuji Superia 200, discontinued in 2004, and Ferrania’s Solaris FG200 (ISO 200, 24 exposures), discontinued in December 2008 when Ferrania exited the film business. But those supplies have run out. They can now only offer scraps from beneath the bottom of the barrel, long-outdated assorted remnants from various manufacturers with claimed performance ranging from “distorted color” to “unpredictable.”
Frugal Photographer also stockpiled the 126 Ferrania Solaris film before its discontinuation, but that supply was exhausted some time ago.
The specialty vendor Lomography has revived the 110 format as part of their range of “exciting analogue photography and lifestyle products.” Their first 110 film was Lomography B&W Orca, an ISO 100 black and white film that began shipping in May 2012. At $7.90 per 24-exposure roll (plus shipping), this is definitely a niche product. First, you’ll need your own darkroom to process the film. Second, it originally lacked the backing paper that protects it from light leaks, and that would also normally display the current frame number through a cut-out window in the back of the cartridge. (The Orca cartridges did not have a window.) As the Web page no longer mentions this “feature,” they may have updated the film to a conventional paper backing.
Lomography has since expanded their range of 110 offerings. Lomography Color Tiger is an ISO 200 color negative film that should be compatible with all 110 cameras. (Modern color negative films easily tolerate 1.3 stops overexposure.) The price is $19.90 for a pack of three 24-exposure cartridges.
Lomography Peacock is an ISO 200 color slide film. A 24-exposure cartridge costs $7.90. It raises several interesting questions. First, the ISO 200 speed means many (most?) 110 cameras, including the original Pocket Instamatics, will not expose it correctly. You’ll need to somehow place a 1.3-stop neutral density filter over the lens. Second, although the film uses the standard E-6 process, users who don’t process it themselves will probably have difficulty finding a lab that can handle 16mm film— and even more difficulty mounting the processed film for projection or scanning. (Dwayne’s Photo in Parsons, Kansas, processes 110 E-6 film for $10 per roll, plus shipping. They return the processed film unmounted. I haven’t tried this lab.) Judging by the example images on the Web page, Lomography seems to have intended Peacock for “cross-processing” in the C-41 chemistry meant for color negative film. Cross-processing yields prints with distinctive “artistically” distorted colors. Any of the large wholesale labs that provide film processing for big-box stores should be able to process this film (or Color Tiger) in C-41 chemistry.
The last Lomography film would have probably been described as “off the wall” during the heyday of 110. Lomography Lobster Redscale is a color negative film that renders everything in shades of red and orange. I can’t imagine a use for such a thing, but it fits the aesthetic values that Lomography represents. The company supports and takes its name from the “alternative photography” movement that began in the 1990s with the artistic use of cheap plastic cameras, notably the Chinese Diana and the Russian Lomo.
The German film manufacturer ADOX had a Web page describing their efforts to obtain tooling for making 126 cartridges. When I last visited it in November 2015, it stated that the film is “out of production,” and that the “earliest date for a possible re-evaluation of the situation is at the end of 2012 when we have set up all other confectioning areas in our factory.” (Did they also plan to offer sugar-free film for diabetics?) The page disappeared when ADOX revamped their Web site in January 2016. (It’s archived at the “Wayback Machine” Internet Archive.) It thus appears that they’ve finally abandoned the long-stagnant 126 project.
ADOX was also working on a 110 color negative film. A Web page last updated in February 2011 claimed that they had made some progress, but noted that too many technical and economic unknowns remain to provide any availability date. (“It might be the summer it might be the fall it might be the end of the year of next year.”). ADOX also hinted at a “Pocket-Films (110)” version of their black and white PAN 400, a resurrected version of Agfa’s APX 400. The Web pages describing those “vaporware” products were removed during the summer of 2015, and now redirect to a German shopping site that sells ADOX films in Europe. The shop includes a Pocket Films 110 page offering the Lomography products. ADOX presumably concluded that the availability of the Lomography films obviated their plans for 110 products.
A new owner is attempting to revive Ferrania’s film production, with the help of the Italian government and a Kickstarter campaign. They hint at eventually producing 110 and/or 126 film. They had planned to deliver the first batch of ISO 100 color negative film in 2015, but the restoration of a mothballed factory seems to be hitting obstacles at every turn. For now, the Web site is interesting reading.
While you’re waiting for Ferrania (or Godot), you might try reloading old 126 cartridges with 35mm film. You could also reload old 110 cartridges with 16mm movie film, or cut down your favorite 35mm film. The original Pocket Instamatic cameras rely on the one-per-frame perforations of real 110 film to lock the film advance thumb slider when a frame is properly positioned. One work-around is to cut a notch in right side of the bottom lip of the cartridge, avoiding the little button that the cartridge presses when the camera is loaded. This is illustrated in a photo.net forum discussion (which also includes my post with the full text of the e-mail I received from Kodak technical support about the availability of 110 film in July 2009). When the button isn’t pressed (usually when the camera isn’t loaded), the film advance slider will not lock. After one full stroke of the slider resets the shutter, you can advance the film until the next frame number shows in the cartridge window.
The original 1972 Pocket Instamatics had exposure meters set to a fixed ISO 80. (That was the speed of the original Kodacolor II negative film. Kodak labs reportedly push-processed the ISO 64 Kodachrome and Ektachrome slide films slightly to compensate for the underexposure.) If you’re going to bother with reloading cartridges for these cameras, Kodak’s new fine-grained Ektar 100 would seem the best choice. Lomography’s ISO 200 Color Tiger color negative film should work well too; the 1.3-stop overexposure may yield finer grain than exposure at the rated speed. (Lomography’s Peacock slide film will look unacceptably washed-out if it’s processed as slides in E-6 chemistry. But it may benefit from the overexposure if it’s cross-processed as negatives.) Any users of Lomography Orca black and white film would have to process it themselves, so appropriate adjustment of developer time should compensate for slight overexposure. ISO 200 or 400 would be a better choice for the cheap meterless cameras that were the last of the 110 breed. That’s probably why Kodak offered the now-discontinued MAX Versatility 400 as the last official 110 film.
Some 110 cameras from the late 1970s (including the Trimlite Instamatic 48 that succeeded the Pocket Instamatic 60) have a feeler that detects a little plastic ridge on the right edge of the cartridge. The ridge sets the meter to “low speed,” which Kodak never officially defined but was apparently ISO 80. Kodacolor 400 cartridges of that era lacked this ridge, so they set the meter to “high speed” (also undefined, but probably ISO 400).
For some unknown reason, Kodak’s ISO 400 MAX Versatility 400 cartridges had a ridge. You’ll need to remove it with a nail clipper if you find a cartridge of it and have one of those cameras. The original design of the 110 cartridge included a scheme of small notches on the front of the bottom lip of the cartridge to indicate a range of film speeds. The older 126 cartridge had a similar system. Kodak “notched” their 110 cartridges in the 1970s, but neither Kodak nor any other manufacturer ever made cameras that could read the notches.
Once you have film, there is still one more hurdle to clear before you can use your old Pocket Instamatic. Whether for technical or marketing reasons, Kodak decided that the Pocket Instamatic cameras needed a new dedicated battery— “Size K.” A few non-Kodak cameras also used it. Battery manufacturers continued to produce them until the late 1990s. The last time I saw any for sale was in 2005.
That means you’ll need to find a dead “K” battery, and reload its plastic shell with fresh button cells. D. Scott Young’s former Web site devoted to 110 and subminiature cameras had comprehensive illustrated instructions for doing that. The Web site has disappeared, but the “Wayback Machine” Internet Archive has a copy of those instructions.
Another battery workaround is illustrated in this flickr set. The author notes that the batteries “lost voltage quickly leading to underexposed photos.” I suspect that was a problem with his camera rather than the batteries.
Of course, if you have a Pocket Instamatic 20, the cheapest of the original 1972 cameras, or the even cheaper Pocket Instamatic 10 that Kodak added to the line in 1973, you won’t have this problem. These cameras have fixed-speed mechanical shutters that don’t need batteries.